


Birthday

by Reis_Asher



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Birthday Smut, Bisexual Johnny Silverhand, Blow Jobs, Bottom Johnny Silverhand, Coming Untouched, Dicky Twister, Face-Fucking, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Pre-Canon, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 00:00:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30080343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: It's Kerry's birthday, and the band goes to Dicky Twister to celebrate. Before long, Johnny's getting a lap dance, and Kerry's getting jealous...
Relationships: Kerry Eurodyne/Johnny Silverhand
Kudos: 30





	Birthday

Johnny and Kerry sat in a private booth at the Dicky Twister, Johnny smoking a cigarette. His feet were up on the table, where a young Latino hunk gyrated seductively against a pole. His eyes were set forward, admiring the view in front of him while Kerry’s gaze lingered only on Johnny.

The universe was a cruel mistress, wasn’t she? Johnny was bi, but that wasn’t enough. He wasn’t attracted to Kerry. That would have been too simple, and nothing in his life was ever easy.

"Why don't you come down here?" Johnny purred. Kerry bit down on his anger as the party hat Denny had placed on his head earlier slipped askew. It was his birthday, but Johnny was spoiling it. Robbing him of the spotlight, as he always did.

The stripper didn't care. He only saw the opportunity for eddies. Well that and the fact nobody would ever turn down Johnny in those tight leather pants, bulge prominent and begging for attention. One eyeful of that and Kerry forgot to be mad for a second. It bubbled as resentment at the fact Johnny could twist reality itself with that charm bubble of his. Kerry couldn’t help but be attracted to the man, and he hated it.

The stripper worked his way down Johnny's body until he was mouthing at the leather encasing Johnny's erection. Fucker probably wasn't even paying attention. He was high as a kite. The look of bliss on his face could have come from anywhere.

Kerry could tease noises out of him too.

Fuck, he was jealous of a stripper. This was a new low for him. Johnny fucked anything that moved. It wasn't news. Even the screamsheets had given up on detailing the sexual exploits of Johnny Silverhand. Even the most dedicated stalker journalists couldn't keep up.

"Nice," Johnny growled, and he turned his face to make eye contact with Kerry as the stripper worked on his zipper. Kerry couldn't help but look down as Johnny's cock sprang free. The stripper wasted no time devouring it, licking up the prominent vein on the underside before taking it into his mouth.

Kerry folded his arms and sulked, crossing one leg over the other. It trapped his own erection, but at least it hid it from Johnny's gaze. He wasn't going to let the guy know how hot and bothered he was. How jealousy burned him up on the inside. How he wanted to be the one down on his knees sucking Johnny's cock.

His treacherous eyes wouldn't move from where they were fixed on Johnny. He was gorgeous, his lips parted, his head thrown slightly back exposing his throat. The moans escaping his mouth were music, charming Kerry's cock to rise even as it was painfully restrained by his posture.

Johnny chuckled, stubbing his cigarette out on the couch and spreading his arms wide across the back. "It's your birthday, Ker. You don't wanna share the cake? I thought you'd like to lick the frostin' off."

Kerry turned his face away, a flush coloring his cheeks. He wanted to bite back, but not in company. The stripper didn't deserve to be privy to one of their legendary arguments.

"Can you believe it?" Johnny told the stripper. "Givin' him everything he wants for his birthday and he throws it back in my face."

That was enough. "Fuck you, Johnny,” Kerry snapped.

"I was plannin' on fucking you, but if you don't want it…"

Kerry was a fish looking at a tasty morsel, knowing it was bait. Problem was, he was hungry for any scraps Johnny gave him. Even if there was a barbed hook waiting to maim him as soon as he took a bite. He knew better, but the power Johnny had over him defied logic.

The bastard knew it, and used it every time the opportunity presented itself. How many times had he been Johnny’s quick fuck In dressing rooms and backstage corridors, in clubs and bars, and heaven help him, back alleys?

“You’re right. I don’t want it.” Kerry kept his eyes focused ahead on the wallpaper, tracing the patterns in it. He didn’t need to look over at Johnny. With his ego wounded, he’d double down on his sex act with the stripper. He’d probably fuck half this building just to piss him off. So be it. He wasn’t going to wake up alone, wishing he could be something more in Johnny’s life.

The stripper, sensing trouble, paused bobbing on Johnny’s cock. Denny, Henry, and Nancy chose that moment to come crashing through the door, breaking the tension. They said nothing about the fact Johnny’s cock was hanging out, rock hard and glistening in the neon light. Or about Kerry, brooding in the corner. To them it was simply another day at the office.

The stripper stood up. “I should go,” he said, in heavily accented English. Denny grabbed him by the arm.

“Come on, honey, party’s just gettin’ started over here.” She planted a kiss on his cheek. Henry, eyes rolling back in his head, slipped a few eddies into the stripper’s thong.

“Don’t let us distract you. Keep doin’ what you’re doin’. We don’t mind.”

Kerry was the one who stood up. “I think I’m gonna go,” he said. He charged out the door and down the hallway, where men were making out all around him. Johnny didn’t kiss. He saved that for the women. For Alt and Rogue and whatever flavor of the week he had hanging off his arm. Kerry made a beeline for the back exit of the club and crashed through the exit door. The cool air was nice on his burning hot skin and he took a moment to breathe in, feeling his heartbeat coming down to a steady pulse.

Not a moment later, Nancy followed.

“Letting him get under your skin again, huh? You know he likes it.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” Kerry tore the party hat off and tossed it into the gutter. “It’s my fucking birthday, you know?”

“And when you blew out the candles on the cake you wished for one kiss from Johnny Silverhand, am I right?” She clapped Kerry on the shoulder. “Trust me, Kerry, you don’t wanna be kissed by fire.”

“I know that, but when he’s in the same room as me I can’t even think straight.” He carded his hands through his thick black hair. “He tells me to jump, and I ask, ‘how high?’”

“C’mon, you’re not fooling anyone, Kerry. You’re both playing a game. It’s what makes the magic happen. The sparks between you _are_ Samurai. You think that kind of creative magic happens in domesticity?” Nancy laughed.

“What are you saying? That we have to fight?”

Nancy shrugged. “Maybe. We both know Johnny loves to argue. I sometimes wonder if he wants to get pushed around. That he acts like a dick because he’s hoping someone will have the balls to put him in his place.”

Kerry laughed. “Wouldn’t surprise me. That ain’t me though, Nance.”

“Sure, but can you imagine the shock on Johnny’s face if you took what you wanted?” She fell silent as Johnny emerged from the back door. Nancy went back through the open door and it closed with a decisive thud.

“Why are you here?” Kerry asked as sirens wailed off in the distance. “Can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?”

“It’s a free city,” Johnny said. “Man’s got a right to smoke.” He lit up, blowing smoke in Kerry’s face. “That was a good blowjob, Ker. That guy really knew how to take it deep.”

“Don’t fuckin’ start, Johnny.” Kerry let out a deep breath. It started to rain, slow drops of cold water hitting Kerry like pinpricks. “Why do you always have to wind me up? So you can watch me humiliate myself when I fall over like a clockwork toy?”

Johnny smirked, but said nothing.

“Well? Answer me!” Kerry yelled.

“You’re cute when you’re angry, Ker.” Johnny tossed down his cigarette and snuffed it out with his boot. “You always put on your choir boy outfit, like you’re above everyone else. I’m just helpin’ you be more honest with yourself.”

“No. No, you’re just usin’ me, and I’m tired of it.”

“What do you want? You want me to lie to you?” Johnny shook his head. “Be good when Kerry’s around, in case he gets offended? Fuck off.”

“No, you fuck off.” Kerry grabbed Johnny’s dogtags, pulling him close and not letting go. He ripped the sunglasses off Johnny’s face with his free hand and tossed them to the ground, revealing his bloodshot eyes and brown irises with blown out pupils. Johnny was breathing heavily, his breath reeking of cigarette smoke and cheap liquor.

The rain intensified, turning into a torrential downpour. Kerry’s clothes were getting soaked, but he didn’t care. Johnny’s hair clung to his face, rain pouring down his cheeks like tears. Kerry doubted he’d ever cried in his life. The man was incapable of it. That would involve feeling something for someone else.

“Go on, Ker. Hit me. I know you want to,” Johnny goaded. “You’ve got me right where you want me. You could hurt me real good. Isn’t that what you want? I’ve spent years humiliating you, after all.”

Kerry’s left hand balled into a fist at his side. His right held Johnny’s dogtags so hard he wondered if he might rip them off his neck. He could punch him. It would feel good. They could fight in the rain, drawing blood out of each other until fighting turned to fucking.

Or he could just skip that part and act on Nancy’s hunch that Johnny wanted somebody to put him in his place. It made sense, given the kind of woman his on-again, off-again output Alt was. Tough as nails and taking no shit.

The rain trickled down Kerry’s back, his t-shirt clinging to him. It was moderately unpleasant, but he didn’t care. He was about to take what he was owed, the kiss Johnny refused to give him.

He let go of Johnny’s tags, pushed him against the dumpster, and kissed Johnny. Nothing slow and sweet, either. He pressed his tongue against Johnny’s lips, demanding entrance. His hand snaked down between them to fondle Johnny’s cock and balls, still half-hard. He was willing to bet Johnny hadn’t gotten off in the club after he left.

Johnny opened his mouth in surprise. Kerry seized on the moment, plunging his tongue into Johnny’s mouth at the same time he stuffed his hand down Johnny’s pants, squeezing his cock almost hard enough to hurt. He kept Johnny pressed against the dumpster, even though he was sure Johnny was strong enough to overpower him. His chipped arm was enough by itself to snap his neck, but Johnny never raised it from his side, even as he started to protest at his need for air. The vibrations echoing through Kerry’s mouth filled him with a sense of power. Johnny was making music with him. In a sense.

Kerry broke the kiss long enough to breathe, a smile playing across his lips.

“Fuck, I knew you had it in you,” Johnny gasped, a look of triumph on his face. “You depraved son of a bitch.”

“What can I say? You bring the worst out in me.” Kerry unclasped Johnny’s belt and unzipped his pants, pulling out his dick and playing with it slowly. Fondling his balls.

He let go and Johnny whined. He took his own dick in hand, and Kerry twisted his wrist, forcing him to let go. He gave Johnny a few more slow strokes and stopped again.

“Fuck, Ker, don’t hold out on me—”

Kerry grabbed his cock and stroked it until it grew rock hard in his hand and Johnny’s eyes started to roll, then on the brink of orgasm he let go, pinning Johnny’s hands to the dumpster in one swift motion.

“You wanna cum, Johnny? Is that it?” Kerry asked. Johnny’s lips parted, mouthing words, but no sound came out. “I can’t hear you.”

“Please.” The word came out like something profane. Kerry was sure he’d never heard it spoken from that mouth in his entire life. He wasn't even sure it existed in his vocabulary.

“Oh no. You’re not gettin’ off that easy.” Kerry unzipped his pants, releasing his erection from its restraints. “You always take, Johnny. It’s about time you give somethin’ back.”

“Like Hell. You know I don’t—”

“Yeah. You don't suck cock. You don’t like cock. So you keep tellin’ me, over and over. I think you’re full of shit, Johnny.”

“Fuck,” Johnny gasped. “Is that what you really want? To see me down on my knees, my face in your balls, my tongue lashin’ your dick? Shoulda asked sooner.”

“I’m done _askin_ ’,” Kerry growled.

Johnny fixed him with a disbelieving stare, then slowly lowered himself down the side of the dumpster until he was on his knees in a puddle. A streetlamp from above was the only illumination, but it was all Kerry needed to see Johnny tentatively lick his cock before taking it as deep as he could. Which was pretty far for a first-timer, but he still gagged. Kerry held the sides of his head, slowly face-fucking Johnny, whose eyes rolled as he blew Kerry with enthusiasm.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Kerry said. “You love cock, but you’re too afraid to admit it. Scared to let anyone know you wanna get fucked and you want guys like me to cum down your throat.” He pushed his cock all the way in, holding it there for a couple of seconds before pulling back. Tears welled in Johnny’s eyes, his eyeliner streaked down his face. He was beautiful in ruination, his lips stretched wide around Kerry’s shaft and his sodden hair stuck to his skin.

“You’re gonna swallow. You’ve always wanted to taste cum.” Kerry was getting close, Johnny’s absolute submission compelling to him. He blew his load in Johnny’s mouth, pulling out right away in case Johnny really did want to spit it into the gutter.

He drew away just in time to see Johnny’s untouched cock spend all over his thigh, spurting cum all over his leather pants like it had a will of its own. Johnny swallowed, opening his mouth and gasping. Kerry wanted to leave him like that, drowned and used in the rain, but that wouldn’t be right. As much as he hated Johnny sometimes, he loved him too.

He pulled Johnny to his feet and kissed him. He could taste himself in Johnny’s mouth, and it was intoxicating. Johnny kissed him long and slow, the fire in him reduced to a low flame. Johnny weakly wrapped his arms around him, like he needed Kerry’s support just to stand. Kerry broke the kiss reluctantly.

It had been everything he ever wanted, Johnny opening himself up in ways he’d never expected. This kind of intimacy would have a price, but for his birthday he could allow himself to believe they really might have a chance. That he’d awakened something new inside Johnny that was here to stay.

“I’m gonna hail us a cab,” Kerry said. He raised his hand, and a taxi pulled over. Kerry bundled Johnny into the back and climbed in next to him, giving the taxi driver his address. He’d take Johnny home and maybe they’d cuddle for a while as they fell asleep. He’d always wanted to fall asleep with him. To hold him for more than a fleeting moment post-coitus.

Kerry would wake up alone. Johnny would become cold and distant. The band would break up again. This time it might even stick. Johnny would make a great solo act. So would he. But they’d never be like this again. He’d seen Johnny’s true form. That was enough to make Johnny bolt. Nothing frightened him like his own vulnerability, and he’d double down on the coke and hookers if only to show the world that it wasn’t true. That Johnny Silverhand didn’t have a heart.

Johnny looked up from where he leaned against Kerry. “Happy birthday, Ker.”

That would be Johnny’s get out of jail free card when Kerry asked about it later. That he’d been giving Kerry what he wanted for his birthday. Kerry would let him get away with it, if only to save their friendship. He couldn’t care less about Johnny’s fucked up sense of dignity.

But it wasn’t midnight just yet. There was still plenty of booze and drugs back at Kerry’s place. He might even get to fuck Johnny before the night was over. Break out the fuzzy handcuffs. See how far he could go down the rabbit hole with Johnny before he noped out. Or fell asleep.

Kerry planted a kiss on top of Johnny’s wet hair. “Happy birthday to me,” he whispered. “Happy birthday to me.”


End file.
